To be loved by you, p.21
To Be Loved by You, page 21
If his brothers had had it much better, Jeremy suspected they wouldn’t have taken off the first chance they got. He took a slow breath. “I survived, and I’m committed to not passing it on. That’s what matters.”
She walked closer to the window and Rolo let out a single bark, proving beyond a doubt how well he read Jeremy’s energy. “What is it that’s got you out this way so early?” She surprised Jeremy by letting Rolo sniff her hand and then giving him a quick pat on the forehead.
Jeremy gave a light shake of his head as he fidgeted with the rubber edge of his windshield-wiper blade. “Not much. Just taking a drive.”
“Your father used to do that, to collect his thoughts.”
How’d that work out for him? was on the tip of Jeremy’s tongue, but he held it back. “Reminding me what we have in common isn’t going to get you the reaction you’re hoping for, Mom.”
She finished her cigarette and lit another one immediately. “You might think I talk all day, cutting hair, but I have plenty of time to think. Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of that. There’s a lot I’d do differently if I could go back. But I can’t. And you can’t. And he can’t.”
“That’s true.”
“But we can make better decisions moving forward. If he drinks again when he gets out, I’ll leave him. This time for good.” After another puff, she added, “Those meetings you and I were going to? I’ve been thinking about going again. It would be good to get into the routine before your father gets out.”
Surprise washed over him. “I agree completely. If you need company, I can go with you.”
“I’d like that,” she said before coughing into her elbow. “You know, Jer, I’d like to get together sometime and not talk about your father. Not even once. Maybe you could come by the salon and I could cut your hair. We could sit out back after and have some Ding Dongs and milk like we used to.”
Jeremy took a breath before responding. “Yeah, maybe. Sometime. That’d be nice.” He wasn’t quite convinced it would be nice, but she looked old and frail enough today that his answer carried a ring of nostalgia.
“Well, don’t be shy about it. You know how time gets away, and things don’t happen the way we mean for them to.”
A woman pulled into the space next to his mother’s Cruze and went to the back seat to get her child out of a car seat. The young girl was whining, and the mother was snapping.
Jeremy dragged a hand over his mouth and down his cropped beard. “I’ll text you, Mom. For now, I’d better get going. I’m taking a group of kids back to the shelter this afternoon.”
“Well, I won’t keep you.”
Likely surprising her as much as him, he stepped forward and hugged her. She was thin and smelled of cigarettes and hair spray along with a hint of the off-brand lemon dish soap she’d used when he was little.
She reached her arms around him and patted his back. “You’re looking good, Jer. Handsome as your dad was when we met.”
Back when you were sixteen, and he was almost twenty-six, he thought but didn’t say.
As he got back in the van, a hesitance to part from her surprised him. “I’ll text you about coming over.”
“I’d like that.” She gave him the single, swift nod he remembered seeing a thousand times.
He drove off, the experience settling over him more fully. He’d made it another mile and was headed onto the Interstate 55 on-ramp before he realized his windows were still down, and he rolled them up, much to Rolo’s disappointment. Ahead of him in the distance, the St. Louis Arch gleamed in the morning sun. It hit him with a clarity he’d not experienced before how short of a distance there was between his childhood home and the one where he’d rebuilt his life. A handful of miles, a big river, and a bridge were all that separated them.
That and the walls he’d built inside himself, walls to keep the pain of his childhood at bay. Walls to keep his father and anyone like him out. Walls that were keeping Ava out the same way.
He thought back to Janice’s words last night. She was right. The question he needed to answer was whether he was ready to carve out a door in those walls inside him. This, he realized, was one of the most frightening questions he’d been faced with yet.
Chapter 22
Jeremy did his best to keep focused on the kids who’d joined him today for the second half of this weekend’s service hours, which, considering they were working in the High Grove storage room checking expiration dates, reorganizing the stock system, and labeling cat and dog chow for allergy content, required attention to detail. Considering the complex new shelving system that Patrick had designed, it required a considerable attention to detail at that.
The playful banter and questions of the three kids as they worked helped keep him present. Still, no matter what Jeremy did, every time he wasn’t forcing himself to stay focused, his thoughts circled back to Ava and how she’d looked as she’d tucked Louie back into his box and crossed the yard, mustering an almost regal dignity even though she’d been on the verge of tears.
He also kept remembering the way his dog had skulked back to the patio after she’d gone, looking as dejected as he had the few times he’d gotten in trouble over the years.
“You wouldn’t understand,” he’d said defensively, to which Rolo had whined softly. If Rolo had been doubting Jeremy’s actions last night, he seemed calm and happy again this afternoon. He was stretched out in the hallway, watching the activity with interest.
Jeremy had been itching to text Ava all day but hadn’t yet found the right words. It didn’t help that he was as sleep-deprived as he was busy.
As they were wrapping up, Patrick came into the doorway of the small room to check out the kids’ work. “It smells as if you’ve been exerting yourselves.” His tone was as matter-of-fact as ever, which made it clear he wasn’t making a joke.
Hailey’s eyes grew wide, and she turned to Jeremy. “Are you gonna tell me I’m not supposed to take that as an insult?” One of Hailey’s goals in moving through Jeremy’s program was to become less reactive when someone or something triggered her.
When Patrick answered for him, all Jeremy had to do was cock an eyebrow. “Exertion is effort. Effort is commendable. I meant it as a compliment.”
After considering Patrick’s words a few seconds, Hailey shrugged. “Uh, thanks, I guess.”
Next to her, Adam sniffed his pits before fanning his nose. “Effort must trump antiperspirant because my pits stink.”
This started a round of who smelled worse than whom. When he was able to get a word in, Jeremy said, “We’re almost finished up in here, Patrick. We still have a little over half an hour before the kids are picked up if you need anything else today.”
“Something with dogs,” Adam grumbled.
Patrick took a second, processing Adam’s comment. “Tess and Fidel are in the fenced training areas on the back hill with some of the dogs who were brought in from the puppy mill confiscation. They’re doing some basic training now that the dogs are out of quarantine. In only two training sessions, they’re progressing more rapidly than one might expect after such neglect.” He looked at the kids. “If you help bring the dogs to them from their kennels, Tess and Fidel will be able to get to more dogs.”
The kids erupted into a chorus of yesses. They endured projects like this but far preferred dog walking over anything else.
Jeremy couldn’t blame them. “These guys are never going to turn down one-on-one time with the dogs.”
Patrick headed out, and Jeremy and the kids relocated the last twenty or so bags of dog food to their new spots on the shelves according to expiration dates and possible allergens. While doing so, Jeremy fought back another urge to text Ava.
Finish this, get your thoughts together, and give her a call. After last night, you owe her more than a text. Hell, you owe her more than a phone call, too, and you know it.
***
“You know, Sis, I hate to break it to you, but I think your memory of my artistic ability may be tainted by your bubbly view of—well—everything.”
Olivia was hovering over her, hands on her hips and head cocked sideways as she examined the dog and cat caricatures Ava had spent the last three hours painting on the wall of the new veterinary office that Gabe was about to open with Yun. Alongside the life-size cat and dog Ava had painted were items like a bowl of kibble, a ball, a stuffed mouse, and a bone with end nubs and a shaft that, no question about it, bore cartoon-penis qualities.
“They’re cute. Really cute.” Olivia nodded as she spoke, as if agreeing with herself. There was a splattering of buttery-yellow paint in Olivia’s hair from roller brushing one of the exam rooms while Ava had been up front creating the playful dog-and-cat scene.
“What about getting Mia over here to polish this up? You know her, right? She’s the volunteer who painted the mural next door.” While her sister had been the one to pull her into volunteering recently, Ava had been a supporter of High Grove ever since she’d attended a gala a few years back, and she’d enjoyed watching the mural come together on their social media posts.
“Yeah, I know her. Mia’s great. But this is just like I envisioned. I’m sure Gabe and Yun will love it.”
“I guess we’ll know soon enough.” Ava wiped what she was able to of the colorful acrylic paint smears off her hands. Gabe and Yun were outside working on the footbridge at the side of the property that would connect the new veterinary office with the High Grove Animal Shelter next door.
It was Ava’s first time here since the building’s closing sale, something she’d overseen, and even though she’d woken up feeling like something the cat dragged in and certainly hadn’t felt creative enough to do this paint job the justice it deserved, she forced herself to crawl out of bed midmorning and join her sister here. It helped that she’d been eager to see the construction changes Olivia had been raving about, especially since she’d been the one to introduce Gabe and Yun to the property.
In the weeks since the closing, the property had been converted from a tired jewelry store with a dated look to a trendy new veterinary office whose business was sure to boom. Located next door to High Grove, it seemed impossible that it wouldn’t, especially considering that Gabe had recently taken on the role of the shelter’s primary vet.
The grand opening was in another four weeks, and by then the footbridge would be finished. The shelter would be participating in the opening celebration with a summer open house of their own. Olivia had signed up for the shelter’s planning committee, and she’d been filling Ava in on all the fun activities being planned for both dogs and people.
Before last night, Ava had begun hoping she might attend with Jeremy, his kids, and the foster dogs. That won’t be happening now, that’s for sure.
Blinking heavily even though she definitely wasn’t fighting back a fresh well of tears, Ava got up from her seat on the floor and crossed the lobby to study her work from afar. Thankfully, further away, the cartoon animals were a bit more forgiving. With perky ears, big eyes, round faces, and big paws, they were upbeat and happy, if nothing else.
At least one wall in each room of the front portion of the building had been painted in bright colors: canary yellow, cardinal red, and indigo-bunting blue. Neutral coordinating walls in each room softened the colors and, thanks to a talented staff member who worked part-time as a pet photographer, were about to be decorated with large-scale, colorfully framed prints of former shelter animals who’d been treated by Gabe, Yun, or the previous practice owner, Dr. Washington.
Ava had been asked to paint the cartoon images along the portion of the waiting room that was being turned into a kid play zone. While she hadn’t drawn in years, she’d drawn and painted cartoon dogs and cats as a kid, and her sister had been her biggest fan. Ava had done a handful of practice sketches in the last few days while waiting on clients and such and had figured painting would be like riding a bike after a several-year absence. With the skill of a returning tricyclist maybe.
After waking up this morning with legs and arms that seemed to be filled with sand and a splitting headache to boot—no doubt thanks to the abundant tears she’d shed when her Terramizzou concrete hadn’t dulled her sorrows—she was beginning to feel like herself again, even if there was an unceasing dull ache in her belly.
If she could turn back time, she’d force herself not to kiss Jeremy. As exceptional as those fleeting moments had been, she couldn’t see around the fact that those few minutes would likely stop a budding friendship and a long list of other great things along with it.
Although her sister had noticed her puffy lids when they’d met up here this morning, she’d seemed to buy Ava’s excuse that her allergies were kicking in. Tonight, when they were home, Ava would curl up around a mountain of pillows and confide the whole thing to her. Here, she was determined to keep herself together. Gabe and Yun could walk in at any moment, and Ava wasn’t about to fall apart in front of them.
Olivia gave Ava’s painting job one last nod. “They really look great, Ava. I’m so happy it worked out that you could take the afternoon off and join us, even though I can only guess what you had to turn down to do it.”
Ava was on her knees closing the tubes of paint. She didn’t need to admit it right now, but after a lot of debate about taking weekend hours off two weekends in a row, she’d asked an agent friend to host an open house for her this afternoon. “Considering how I’ve been giving more and more thought to scaling back, it was something I wanted to do.” She shrugged. “I want hours that are mine without feeling like I’m cheating to get them.”
Olivia cocked her head. “You know me. I’m all about you giving yourself permission to do that. A nice house and a nest egg will be there when you’re ready for it, but you can’t get these years back if you work straight through them.”
“Well said, Baby Sis.”
Olivia pulled her into a hug, no doubt passing along a few dots of canary yellow to complement the drips of acrylic paints Ava had already gotten on herself. “Did you hear that just now? That was me not commenting on the ‘baby’ part and focusing on how much I love you.”
With only a year separating them, Olivia hated being referred to as the baby sister, though nothing seemed like it could dull her sister’s positive outlook today. No doubt she was riding on a love bubble. Ava had a suspicion Gabe was close to proposing.
“Thanks again for coming today. It’s more fun with you here.”
“If you asked me to peddle newspapers in morning traffic, I’d do it.”
Olivia laughed. “I have zero doubt you would. You’re one of the most giving people I know.”
Ava’s thoughts flashed back to the ladybugs hopefully taking up residence in Edith and Eleanor’s garden thanks to the ladybug house and the fresh supply of ladybugs she’d brought Edith and Eleanor at dinner last night, along with the toys she’d brought for the dogs. She’d been throwing herself at Jeremy all week. Her cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. Not true. You’d have done the same thing regardless of any crush. You know it, and it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t.
“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” The question was out before she knew she was going to ask it.
Olivia frowned. “Absolutely not. What’s up? And don’t say ‘nothing’ because I know when you’re lying.”
“I’m fine.” When she could see by the look on her sister’s face that she wasn’t buying it, Ava added, “Let’s talk tonight, please.”
“Yeah, okay. For sure. For what it’s worth, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we grew up in a house where nobody talks about their feelings and the kind of damage that does. Before I started dating Gabe, I never gave our family’s lack of affection much thought. Around him, it’s just so apparent. He never hangs up from his parents without telling them he loves them. Or his grandparents either. And they say it back. Heck, they initiate it most of the time.”
Ava let out a low whistle. “Can you imagine Gramps telling Dad he loves him? Or even us for that matter.”
“I can’t. Stoicism that strong goes back generations, no doubt. Nobody ever told him, either, most likely.”
“Yeah, it’s a cycle. Only how’d it skip Dad? He’s a lover, that one.”
“It’s got to go hand in hand with that artistic side of his.”
“I bet it does.” Ava gathered up the various brushes she’d used. “I should wash these out with a hose. Wanna walk out back with me?”
“Yeah, sure. We can see if they’ve made any progress on the footbridge while we’re outside.”
They headed out the back through a room that was going to be the overnight kennels and post-surgery recovery area and would be staff access only. No bright colors in here, but muted, soft ones and dimmable lights.
As soon as they stepped out the door, Ava realized what a great day they’d been missing. With low humidity, temps in the low eighties, a light breeze, and azure-blue skies, it was a perfect summer Sunday, the kind that called for picnics and watermelon and badminton.
“How goes it?” Olivia called out as they headed around to the spigot on the side of the building. Gabe and Yun were twenty-five feet away at the edge of the lot.
A series of thick posts had previously been set in concrete, and today they were beginning to connect the base. With the dry creek only about six feet deep and twelve feet wide in the spot they were building the bridge, it would be a big project but not an overly daunting one.
“It’s going,” Gabe said. “Knock on wood, pretty smoothly too. How about with you two?”
“The mini-mural looks great! You’re going to love it.”
Ava jabbed her lightly with her elbow. “Ah, no one told me you were calling that a mural, mini or not. That adds an entirely different level of pressure regarding anticipated quality.” She bit her tongue before she discredited her work any further. One of the things she’d always admired most about her dad was the way he’d always been so happy with the stained-glass windows he’d designed himself. He never stood back to look at them and pick apart their flaws. Instead, he focused on what he liked most.
